End of the Line
by darksupernatural
Summary: The guys had fought and won the war. They have one demon left to send packing, but things get complicated. Slight future fic. set end of S3. rated for parts of an exorcism and hot flames. 3 part oneshot.
1. Dreams

A/N: This is my take on how I'd like to see Season 3 end. Its short I know, but if I'd put everything in it I wanted to Season 3 would be over before I was finished. Besides I like leaving things up to the individual imagination. Thanks for reading.

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End of the Line

May 17, 2008

The year had gone by so quickly. Despite the demons outnumbering the hunters and their allies, good had been the victor. Sam, Dean and Bobby with Ellen and a handful of other hunters had cleared the field, returning all but a handful of demons to hell; most of them in pieces. They had also taken care of whatever else they had run across in their hunts. Now the guys were once again hunting on their own, trailing the last escaped demon, and running out of time to break Dean's demon deal. The demon's trail led the guys back to the Devil's Gate in Wyoming, where everything had gone so wrong in the first place. Neither Winchester wanted to return to the place where all Hell had truly broken loose.

_Two days earlier, early morning_

Dean sat upright on the motel bed with a gasp. He heard them again. The hellhounds. They were coming for him; he knew it without a doubt. He had not quite forty hours left; he noted, glancing at his watch. He had started a countdown timer at sixty hours. Some morbid part of him wanted to know his time was up before he heard the howling. The countdown was active in his mind non stop now. He wiped the sweat from his brow and glanced to the other bed in the room. The one where his baby brother lay sleeping peacefully for the first time in nine days. It had been nine days since Dean's dreams had begun to interfere with Sam's sleep. He had managed to remain quiet this time as hellhounds had set upon him, tearing him to shreds. He had stifled his screams as the beasts, only he could see, ripped his soul from his body and flung it into the flames of hell.

He got up from the bed and stumbled shakily into the small bathroom, like he did every night. He closed the door before turning on the dim lighting. Dean couldn't bring himself to look in the mirror. He knew what he would see, a walking dead man. Dean backed away from the mirror and against the wall opposite the shower, slowly sliding down the wall to sit on the gray tile floor. Tears slid down his cheeks unchecked as the horrors of the dream; of what was about to happen to him; replayed themselves in slow motion behind his tightly closed eyelids.

"Make it stop." He whispered, a broken man. He put both palms to his eyes and pushed as hard as he could. Trying desperately to push away the graphic nightmare. Sobs wracked Dean's body; now slightly thinner as he'd found himself unable to eat hardly anything in the last three days. He just kept his hands pressed into his eyes, weeping. The cold from the tiles seeped into his bones.

No matter how cold he got, nothing could stop the heat of the hellfire he felt every night. When the tears subsided, he looked up, blinking away the blurriness and black spots that clouded his vision. It had grown daylight in the time since he had woken up. He quickly pulled himself together, standing and moving to the sink after he opened the bathroom door.

"Sammy'll be wakin' up soon." He muttered softly, not wanting his baby brother to see him losing it like this. He washed his face and looked in the mirror. He caught movement behind him. It was Sam, moving to stand in the doorway.

"I'm already awake, Dean. How long have you been in here this time?"

"Since 5:30."

"God. Why did you let me sleep?"

"I needed you to have some peace."

"Dean."

"No Sammy."

"You had the same nightmare again?"

"Yeah."

"We still have some time. I'm gonna find a way to get you out of this."

"There's no way, Sam."

"Yes there is. There has to be." Sam's eyes began to tear. He blinked harshly. "Come on. You need to sleep."

"Okay. Sammy?"

"Yeah?"

"You'll… you'll stay close?"

"I'm right here."

Dean allowed himself to be led back to his bed. Sam helped him lay down, and pulled the blankets up to his shoulders. Dean hadn't realized how cold he'd gotten. He curled up on his side, keeping Sam in his sights, and slowly began to warm up. A few minutes later he was sleeping.

Sam looked at Dean thoughtfully. _ It helped to stay where he could see me. I knew it would._ "Get some rest." Sam headed to the laptop. He needed to do some research. He _had _to find a way to break Dean's pact. And they had one more demon to track. He found a series of demonic omens, very pronounced ones, and they made a clear trail. Straight to Wyoming and the Devil's Gate.

He left Dean sleep for as long as he could, allowing him to wake on his own.

Twelve hours later they had eaten and hit the road, hot on the trail of the last demon they had to take down. Sam drove for the first several hours, with Dean taking the wheel in Missouri.


	2. Nightmares

_26 hours later_

_ Wyoming_

Dean pulled the Impala up to the gates of the cemetery that housed the Gates of Hell. The old cowboy cemetery where they had killed the yellow eyed demon; where Sam had killed Jake in a moment of shock and rage. Memories assaulted the brothers as they walked cautiously into the cemetery, armed to the teeth, in search of the demon they were hunting. It was ground zero for a fierce storm, an omen that a powerful demon lurked nearby. The rain lashed Sam and Dean, quickly soaking them as lightening brightened their surroundings, bringing everything into stark relief a millisecond at a time.

They couldn't hear over the thunder so they counted on signs to communicate with each other. Both of them were in full hunter mode, determined to get the best of this last demon, and win this hard fought war. They walked cautiously to the gates, stilling when they heard a Latin chant rise over the wind.

_…immortus relvi spiritus te incendia te invictus …_

"HEY!" Dean shouted, interrupting the Demon's chant, as he came up behind it.

"I knew you were here," The demon said, turning to meet Dean's gaze in the pounding rain, "you and your brother. It's right where I want you."

"Yeah and why is that?"

"This is a fitting place for you to die, Dean. And for your brother to shatter."

"You're the only one dyin', Bitch. We're sending your ass back to hell."

"You be there before I will."

"I don't think so." Sam said, coming up to make a stand next to Dean.

"Sammy, how nice to see you again. I was hoping you would grace me with your presence, _leader._" The demon's voice dripped sarcasm on the last word.

"We're here to send you back to hell. We've won this war. It's over."

"Not by a long shot." The demon snarled as he flew into a rage. It lashed out, never quite connecting with Dean, yet he went flying backwards into a large granite headstone.

"Uunnn…" Dean gasped, stunned by the force of the impact.

Sam vented his rage, shooting the demon repeatedly. It didn't go down, but it did stagger, loosing its concentration on its target. The bullets left holes that refused to bleed. The demon howled in rage, turning on Sam. It moved with lightening speed, and before Sam could react, it had him by the throat. Lifting Sam from the ground, it squeezed. Sam struggled to find a breath his face quickly changing colors between lightening flashes. Dean saw what was happening to his brother and regained his footing. He ran to the demon and shot it point blank between the eyes. It dropped Sam in a heap on the muddy ground and again turned its attention to Dean.

"Guh… ohhh. (_gasp, cough_.)" Sam drew a breath, the cold wet air burning all the way down. Dean again went flying as Sam raised his head to face the demon. This time he rolled just in the mud, not striking anything. He was on his feet again, lashing out with Holy water he'd pulled from his pocket on his rise. The demon hadn't seen that coming. The holy water struck the demon, mingling with the rain and the demon hissed as steam rose from its face.

"You'll die for that, hunter." Sam had pushed his way to his feet as the demon advanced on Dean.

"I don't think so." Dean said as he hit the demon with holy water again, earning another hiss and a screech from the demon. The demon recovered quickly, the rain working against Dean as it washed the holy water from the demon's face. The demon threw an arm into the air and Dean again was knocked for a loop; this time landing against another headstone; thunder and lightening drowning out his strangled cry of pain.

"Dean!" Sam advanced on the demon, pulling a can of salt from his jacket pocket. "You're going straight back to hell, you son of a bitch." He said menacingly. He began circling the demon, chanting. The salt was ground coarsely and formed a circle in the rain on the muddy ground as Sam went around the demon. The rain was not very effective in dissolving the coarse crystals buying the guys the time they needed to exorcise the demon.

"_Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus , omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio, et secta diabolica."_

Dean forced himself upright and joined Sam in the chant; also circling the demon as it began to shake. He added more salt to the circle that Sam had laid down as he moved in behind his brother.

"_Perditionis venenum propinare. Vade, satana, inventor et magister omnis fallaciae, hostis humanae salutis. Humiliare sub potenti manu dei…"_

"Guh…Aahhh!" The demon began to scream, its black eyes now visible in the lightening flashes. It fought the exorcism, and the power the circles of salt had over it. It screamed again, and the sky blackened, lightening connecting with a massive headstone behind Sam. He stopped chanting as he was roughly thrown to the ground when the headstone exploded. A piece of the black granite tore his jeans along the right leg and embedded itself in his calf. Dean continued the chant, one eye on Sam, as he pulled his handkerchief from his back pocket and made a tourniquet just above the wound.

Sam winced and again forced his way to his feet, picking up the chant again at its finale with Dean. Lightening crashed around them again and again, but Sam and Dean were determined to win this war. The demon was now powerless as the exorcism ripped it from the dead human body it had possessed.

"AAAAHHHHHHHhhhhhhhh!!" Black smoke poured from the corpse's mouth and burst into flames, raining a fine ash to the mud. The body collapsed to the ground. It was over. The war was won. The storm ceased immediately, the night sky settling into glistening relief as the moon broke through the clouds.

Sam met Dean's gaze as he brushed his soaked brown hair out of his hazel eyes. A grimace crossed his features as he lowered himself to the base of the granite headstone that had been blown apart by the lightening.

"Sammy, you alright?" Dean asked as he came up to his brother's side and dropped to one knee in the mud.

"Not really. It hurts pretty bad, Dean."

"Let me see." Dean gingerly used his pocket knife to split Sam's pant leg to get a better view of the wound.

Sam groaned as Dean gently probed the wound. The blood had slowed to a trickle, thanks to Sam's quick thinking with the tourniquet. He dislodged the sliver of granite from the wound and let it bleed clean. It soon stopped again.

"Okay, let's get you to the car. I'll field dress it until we find a motel, then I'll stitch it up for you."

"Okay." Sam stood as Dean reached for him. A sound filled the silence._ Beep, beep, beep, beep. _Dean froze and looked at Sam.

"Oh God." Sam whispered, tears brimming in his eyes. Dean's eyes filled with tears that spilled over his cheeks.

"Sammy, I…" Dean was cut off by an awful sound. _Aaaaarrrrooooooo!_

"Dean, god no!" Sam cried as Dean turned to face the sound. He could see them now. Two huge, black mongrels. They resembled Rottweilers, with white eyes and much larger teeth. They were well muscled and tensed as Dean eased backwards away from them, a look of sheer terror on his face.

"No, no, no…not now, not now." Dean staggered backwards from the harbingers of death that awaited him. He fell in the mud and cowered as the dogs advanced on him. Dean screamed and put his arms up over his head in a gesture of protection. The hell hounds pounced on their prey and Sam watched in horror as grievous wounds appeared on his brother's body. They were obviously claw and teeth marks, inflicted by beasts Sam could not see. Dean screamed in agony, writhing on the muddy ground, as blood poured from the wounds.

"NO! LEAVE HIM ALONE! I WON'T LET YOU HAVE HIM!!" Sam screamed, moving in to pull his brother away from the things that were ripping him to shreds. He was flung onto his back in the mud by some invisible force, landing six feet from Dean's side. He struck his head on a low tombstone.

"Urrgh!" He shuddered once and laid still, blood darkening the back of his head. Dean let out an awful cry and ceased movement. The hellhounds had finished their task. They left Dean's lifeless body in the mud and carried his soul towards the Devil's gate, walking right through the closed doors and into the flames of hell.

Dean screamed soundlessly as the hellfire closed in on him. He began to burn. It was just like his nightmare, his soul catching flame like over dry wood. The pain robbed him of the ability to cry, to scream. He knew his eternity was going to be this. Torture. Somehow even through his suffering he couldn't make himself regret the deal. Sam was alive; they'd had another year together. It was all worth it to Dean. He found himself wishing he had told his baby brother he loved him, just once, when Sam was capable of responding. That thought was more torture than anything hell could inflict on him.

Behind him, Dean sensed something through his pain. It was a presence, a strong one. He felt someone pull his soul from the flames, from the grasp hellfire had on it.

"I SAID YOU CAN'T HAVE HIM!!" It was Sam. Dean felt him like he was standing there, soothing the awful pain, shielding him from the fire. Dean turned; the immobilizing grip of hell broken. He saw Sam-_ his Sammy-_ standing strong beside him. Sam was glowing, a vibrant white as demons swarmed him. He flung them aside, back into the fires he somehow held at bay with ease. Dean's horrified green gaze looked on. He realized that Sam's rage and grief had caused him to embrace the powers he had inside. He was a powerful psychic now, in full control and wreaking havoc on Hell, with a vengeance. Hell's wrath couldn't touch Sam or Dean as the white light encompassed both. The flames were extinguished, repelled by the light of an unexplainable goodness.

The white glow expanded and brightened as the world shook around them. The intensity blocked out all vision, everything went blindingly white, as an explosion rocked existence.


	3. Reality

_Smoke on the Water_ blared over a cell phone in the silent, wet darkness as a figure stirred in the night. A hand reached into a jacket pocket and clasped the phone. Flipping it open it was placed to an ear.

"Yeah?" A groggy, half strangled voice choked out.

"Dean?"

"Bobby?"

"Took ya long enough to answer. Where the hell are you and Sam?"

_Good question._ A groggy look around. "SAMMY?!" A scream.

"God, what the hell, Dean?"

"Hang on." Dean pushed himself upright in the mud and looked around. He caught his surroundings and memories forced their violent way into his shock-numb mind. Smoke and dust were pouring from the crypt that had housed the Gates of Hell. It was now a smoldering pile of rubble.

"Dean…Dean?" A muffled, worried cry over the phone.

"Oh God, Bobby. Where the hell are you?"

"Twenty minutes out from the cemetery in Wyoming. I tracked a massive spike in Demonic activity back to that damn gate."

"We're already here, Bobby. I can't find Sam. Get here _NOW!_" Click.

"SAMMY?!" Dean got to his feet, unsteadily, brushing mud from his body. He started and raised his hands to his face in the darkness. They were covered in blood, his blood. But there were no wounds. He looked himself up and down. _Not a scratch._ He frantically began the search for the brother who had literally walked through the gates of hell to save his family.

"SAMMY!!" Dean screamed. He ran to the rubble of the crypt. It was the only place he hadn't looked for his baby brother. He frantically began sifting through the rubble, moving piece after piece of ancient cement. Finally clearing the debris from the massive doors. He heard Bobby's car pull into the cemetery with a screech of tires on the wet dirt.

"DEAN!!" It was a frenzied cry, desperate for an answer, as Bobby ran across the lifeless body of a man whom he assumed had been possessed by the demon.

"Over here, Bobby! Help me, its Sam! HELP ME!!"

Bobby followed the frantic voice and ran to Dean's side where he worked furiously at clearing rubble. Bobby faltered when he took in the scene before him. Dean; covered in blood head to toe, muddy and soaking wet, yet without a scratch. Moving hurriedly, sobbing as he moved chunks of concrete he shouldn't have even been able to lift.

"What the hell happened here?"

"Help me Dammit. Sammy's under here!" Dean cried, now sure that his baby brother was under the massive iron doors.

"God, no!" Bobby cried as he moved in to help Dean. Together they lifted one of the immense doors, and flipped it over. Adrenaline cursed through two bloodstreams as an arm was exposed to the night air. Sam's forearm from mid way to his hand was now visible as the door fell to the side.

"Come on." The other door was soon out of the way and more rubble was cleared from Sam's body as the rain began again. Dean gasped, falling to his knees at the horrific sight of his brother. He was covered in blood which had begun to run as rain struck his still, lifeless form.

Dean sobbed, reluctant to touch his broken little brother, but need won out over sense and Dean reached out, checking for a pulse, terrified at what he knew he would feel and dying inside as he felt it. _Nothing._

"NNOOOO!" He cried out and lifted his brother's body to cradle it against his chest. Tears streamed down his face as he looked at the older, crying hunter.

"God, Bobby he's not breathing! Help me move him." Bobby grabbed the long legs of the hunter he thought of as a nephew and they hefted him. Together they moved him from the smoldering remains of the crypt. Sam's still warm skin was steaming as the rain contacted it. Dean and Bobby laid him gently on the muddy ground and knelt, beginning CPR and having little hope of success. Bobby began compressions. Dean was lost, staring at the bloodied, lax face of the only thing he loved.

"Sammy. You can't leave me now. We just won, baby brother."

"Dammit Dean, you gotta breathe for him!" Bobby said, finishing a round of compressions. Dean tilted Sam's chin, wiping blood from his lips, and closed his nose. He blew two breaths and Bobby again used linked hands to force blood through Sam's heart.

_Breath…breath._

_One…two…three…four…five…_

_Breath…breath…_

"Come on Sammy." Dean whispered in rhythm with Bobby's lifesaving efforts.

_Gasp._ A wheezing breath rasped in the rainy night.

"Sammy? Sam?" Dean placed his ear to Sam's chest, catching a beat…silence…a beat…beat…beat.

"He's back."

"We gotta get him to a hospital, Dean."

"And say what, Bobby? We can't."

"Then we have to get him out of here. Someplace safe."

Dean moved, pulling his keys from his pocket. He tossed them to Bobby. "You drive. Find us somewhere safe, Bobby."

"Let me help you carry him."

"No. I've got him. He's my brother. He saved me…" Dean choked. He moved again, pulling Sam into his arms. He put one arm under his knees and the other around his shoulders. Sam wheezed again, head lolling back over Dean's forearm. Dean stood under the extra weight and made his way to the car. Bobby ran ahead and had the backdoor open, waiting. Dean laid Sam across the back seat and moved around the other side. Crawling in beside him, he pulled Sam against him and Bobby shut the door. Getting behind the wheel, he drove them a mile up the road to a hunter's cabin.

Bobby got out and opened the door. Dean eased Sam off his lap and climbed out. Together they pulled Sam from the car and Bobby helped to place him in Dean's arms. Bobby choked at the sight, so like a year ago tonight, and led the way to the cabin, again opening doors. They had Sam on the sole bed in the cabin two minutes later and Bobby went outside to fire the generator. Dean heard the engine fire and the lights flickered on, casting shadows over Sam's still body. Dean moved and the light hit Sam, eliciting a choked scream from Dean as his brother's appearance hit him.

"Oh god." Dean fell to the bed side, on his knees. He leaned in close to Sam, sobbing, and kissed his blood-covered cheek. "God Sammy. Please be okay." Bobby came up behind him with a large bowl of cool water and two washcloths.

"We need to clean him up. We have to find out how bad he's hurt."

"Yeah." Dean took a washcloth from Bobby, and dunked it in the bowl. He wrung out the excess and bathed Sam's face as Bobby cleaned his hands. They removed his blood and mud caked jacket and his shirt. As they cleaned him it turned out that he didn't have a scratch either.

"He was covered in blood but there's not a mark on him. What is goin' on?"

"Bobby, it's the same as me. Not a scratch." The water was filthy and Bobby removed the bowl, coming back with clean, warmer water. Three bowls later Sam was reasonably clean. Still silent, unmoving. The rain stopped outside and the sun was coming up.

"Go clean up Dean. I'll stay with him."

"Yeah, okay. Just tell me if…"

"I will."

Ten minutes later Dean came back into the room. He was clean, the horrifying mess washed down the shower drain.

"Any change?"

"He's not so cold anymore." Bobby had covered Sam to the shoulders with a blanket from the trunk of the Impala. Dean could see Sam's chest rise and fall beneath the cover. He sagged in relief.

"I'll sit with him now."

"I have to go back to the cemetery and take care of that body. I'll walk, and bring my car back here."

"Okay."

"See ya in a bit."

"Hey Bobby?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks, man" Bobby nodded once and left. Dean kneeled beside the low bed, curling his legs to one side.

"Hey, Sammy. I'm here. I don't know what you did…but I know you broke that pact. I know…(_sob)…_know you saved me. You saved my soul. I also know it cost you big. I want you to know… I'm here and you are needed…God… Sam… I need you here, now. You gotta come back to me Sam. _(sob) _I…love you kiddo. I need my brother back." Tears flowed freely now as Dean's head sunk to Sam's chest. The only sounds in the room were Sam's steadily beating heart and Dean's quiet sobs.

Two hours later Dean's cries subsided and he dozed, his head still on Sam's chest. His legs had long since fallen asleep. Dean was dreaming now. He thought he felt a hand graze the top of his head, gentle, a soft caress through his hair. He woke and raised hope filled eyes. _Maybe. _

The hand fell from his head to rest weakly on his forearm, where it still lay on Sam's chest.

"Sammy?" A whisper.

"Hey." A weak whisper answered.

"Thank God." A tear-filled cry as Dean grasped Sam's neck in a gentle hand.

"Love you too, Dean." He squeezed Dean's forearm.

Bobby picked that moment to come back into the tiny cabin.

"I love ya both, but somebody better explain just what the _hell_ happened back there!"

All three laughed; Sam's weaker than the others, but still a laugh, as Bobby came forward and squeezed his shoulder beneath the blanket.


End file.
